The Sexy Beast Strikes Back Part 2
by THE Kid Hardy
Summary: One-shot. Chris Jericho catches his wife in the act of flirting with John Cena, and he's going to use his most effective means of punishment to teach her a lesson.


**Title:**Sexy Beast Strikes Back 2

**Author:** Krys/THE Kid Hardy/Kid Dynamo

**Main Characters:** Chris Jericho, Krys (OC).

**Summary:** Just a random sequel to the original "Sexy Beast Strikes Back" story I did some time ago last year. Chris Jericho catches his wife in the act of flirting with John Cena, and he's going to use his most effective means of punishment to teach her a lesson.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own or hold any claim to Christopher Irvine (otherwise known as Chris Jericho) or any WWE Superstar past or present. I fully acknowledge that he is his own property and that of his family. This story is strictly fiction, i.e. not real in any way, shape, or form. Because it is not real, you are not at liberty to take this seriously in any way. That being said, please enjoy and remember, please do _not_ attempt to take this seriously. Thank you in advance.

* * *

Yet again, Chris Jericho was not a happy man.

Here he was, in the middle of an important feud with those fucks from the Nexus, his teammates were arguing with one another each and every week on RAW, half the people on his team he couldn't stand, he was stuck in a mediocre feud with mediocre partners and mediocre opponents in a mediocre match, and to top it all off, as if things weren't bad enough, John Cena had the nerve to start flirting with his wife right in front of him! It was a good thing Chris was a professional and it had taken place after RAW had gone off the air, because if not, then Vince would have been mourning the loss of his beloved cash cow in John Cena, because Jericho was of a mindset to lock in his old submission finisher, the "Liontamer", and torque Cena's back until it snapped in two.

Not only did Cena shamelessly flirt with Krys in front of him, but the bitch actually had the nerve to be flattered! Not even two fucking hours earlier, during the live RAW taping, she had been cowering in fear, afraid that the Nexus were going to attack her after her match against Eve Torres, and Chris had nearly risked getting his ass beat trying to save her from getting a gangbang-style ass whipping. Maybe the next time she was out there about to get pummeled by a bunch of wet-behind-the-ears newbies, Chris should just remain backstage and let her get her ass handed to her; maybe she'd learn her lesson.

But who was he kidding? This was Krys; part of her appeal was that she never listened to a goddamned thing he said. That was part of the reason they got along so well with one another; they were both hardheaded bastards that somehow managed to get together, stay together, and get married, all without killing one another. But this was a different matter. Her actions with Cena were pissing him off, and he just knew she loved seeing him angry, because it always boded well for her in the end. Let's just say that when Chris Irvine lost his temper, he tapped into his inner Chris Jericho, and literally became Krys' walking wet dream. She always complained that they hadn't had enough 'spiciness' in their relationship as of late, so she'd been doing all she could to piss him off, just so that she could get the banging of a lifetime.

But Chris wasn't going to do that this time. If he was going to punish her, he was going to do so on his terms, and he was going to enjoy every single minute of it.

**_(Meanwhile)_**

Krys hadn't had the slightest hint of interest in John Cena before now, but the prospect of seeing her husband pissed off at something she had done was enough to make her endure the WWE Champion's not-so-suave attempts at trying to lure her into going out with him. Though she hadn't dropped any hints that she'd wanted him in the least, Cena seemed to think that the mere fact that he was Vince McMahon's head moneymaker made him the most-wanted man on any woman's list, and that simply wasn't the case when it came to Krys. The only reason she wasn't slapping him around the arena for trying to touch her and come on to her was because she had suddenly spotted her husband glaring at the two of them from his position near the Gorilla Position, his hands clenched tightly into fists at his sides.

Seeing his reaction to Cena flirting with her nearly brought a sly grin to her face, and she turned on the charm, touching Cena's arm and giving him a dazzling smile that would bring any man to his knees. She could literally hear Chris' teeth grinding from his spot at the Gorilla Position, and it sent a shiver of excitement down her spine. The knowledge that Chris was watching her at that very moment, shamelessly flirting with another man, especially one that he despised so much, and was probably pissed off to no extent was enough to make her want to throw herself at Chris and have him screw her until she couldn't walk for the next week. She put a hand in the center of Cena's chest, and stood on her tiptoe to whisper in his ear, dropping subtle hints that they could perhaps get together and do something later that night.

Krys cast another sly glance in her husband's direction, before turning on her heel to leave. Before she left, she blatantly gave Cena a demure look. "Maybe we can continue this conversation sometime later after the show," she purred to the WWE Champion, her voice laced with suggestion, who gulped and his eyes darkened with uncontained lust.

All of a sudden, Krys was jerked away from Cena, and whirled around into the angry blue gaze of Chris Jericho. "Oh, hey there, Chris, I didn't even see you there," she said, appearing to be genuinely surprised to see him. Another smile lit up her face, but it was soon wiped off when he grabbed her arm and dragged her down the hallway from a stunned Cena, ignoring her protests. He dragged her down the hall to the Superstars' locker room, threw it open, and shoved her inside, joining her a split second later.

"What the hell, man?" she exclaimed, stumbling slightly to keep herself from taking a tumble face first onto the floor. "What the hell is your problem, Chris?"

"My problem?" Chris seethed, his blue eyes snapping dangerously. His eyes narrowed as they settled upon Krys, her dark hair tousled from their short journey, and her luscious breasts rising and falling with each breath she took. "My problem, Krys, is _you_. Every time I turn around, there you are, trying to piss me off so that you can get some sort of hot sex. You're frustrating as hell, woman!"

"Is that all?" she asked, straightening herself up and folding her arms across her chest. Her chin jutted out and up into the air, and she glared at him, standing her ground. "Well, _excuuuuuuuuuse me_ if I don't feel the need to be up underneath you twenty-four seven, Chris. It just so happened that I was having a very interesting conversation with John before you came barging up to pull me away like some sort of jealous Neanderthal—"

"You were flirting with him!" Chris interjected hotly, his eyes growing even angrier.

"Oh please, don't tell me you're jealous over something as stupid as _that_?" she exclaimed, shaking her hair out of her eyes with one casual toss of her head. Chris simply glowered at her, his arms folded across his chest, an ugly look upon his face. To further piss him off, Krys moved next to her husband and laid her chin upon his muscular shoulder, looking up at him with mocking puppy-dog eyes. "Awwwww, is wittle Chwissie-poo jealous cuz Cena was fwirting with his girl? Awwww! Is your ego bruised, Chris? Want me to kiss it and make it better?"

That did it. Quick as a flash, Chris had hooked Krys by her wrist in an iron-clad grip, then dragged her over to a nearby bench, sitting himself down and throwing her across his lap. Completely thrown by his reaction, Krys began to struggle furiously, shrieking for him to let go of her before she screamed, but all of a sudden, the stinging sound of a slap across her ass brought the struggling woman to a halt. She turned her head and stared up at him, a look of abject surprise on her face. "…Did you just smack my ass?" she asked dumbly, staring up at him incredulously.

Chris continued to hold her in place across his lap, not trusting his wife enough to remove his hands from their current position on her back. "Yeah, I did," he said, trying to keep his voice even. Her struggles and attempts to get away from him had had quite the effect on his cock, which was now starting to make his wrestling trunks a little uncomfortable.

"Thought so," she said quietly, nodding her head once, then almost immediately started to struggle again, her attempts to get away that time more aggressive. Chris had to forcibly hold her down and smack her ass harder and harder before she finally got the hint and stopped trying to escape.

"If I didn't know any better," Chris snarled in her ear after delivering a particularly hard slap to her backside, "I'd think you were doing this deliberately, so you can enjoy me smacking your ass."

"What in hell makes you think I'm enjoying this?" she shot back, pausing to aim a perfectly placed elbow in Chris' gut. He grunted then cursed, shoving her off of him and onto the hard floor relentlessly, ignoring her squeal of pain as her now-sore backside hit the cold, hard tile. She scrambled onto her knees and tried to jump to her feet, but she was no match for Chris, who was on her in an instant, one hand fisted in her hair and the back of her body pulled up tightly against his.

The both of them were breathing hard in the empty locker room, both flushed and thoroughly excited from the argument and the ensuing fight that had just taken place. Wordlessly, Chris took his free hand and brought it around to cup one breast, taking notice of how Krys' breath caught in her throat. "Because of your reaction to my touch," he said smugly, chuckling quietly and darkly in her ear.

"It's just adrenaline," she panted, trying not to close her eyes and moan as he started to tease the sensitive nipple through the thin material of her shirt.

"Bullshit," he snorted, giving her a hard pinch and reveling in her yelp. She pressed herself even closer to the front of his body, and his cock jumped in response, responding to her motions eagerly. He then released her breast and let his hand travel down to the front of her jeans, where he began to play with her, teasing her through the denim fabric.

Krys leaned her head back on his shoulder and whimpered quietly, closing her eyes and arching her hips backwards towards him. "You should be shot for teasing me like this," she whined, dipping her head, nuzzling his face. "It should be against the law to tease someone who hasn't gotten laid in ages."

"It hasn't been _that_ long," Chris said, rolling his eyes and removing his hand from between her still-clothed and now slightly damp legs. "Ever since that whole Ric Flair episode, you've been trying to provoke me into screwing your brains out."

"Is it working?" she asked innocently, working one hand between them and grasping at his erection through his trunks. Her actions earned her an almost feral growl, and before she could tease him about his response to her actions, she found herself on her hands and knees, with no recollection of how she had gotten back into such a position so quickly.

"I'd say it is," he growled, his voice husky from want. "Maybe you should up the ante."

Her brain could hardly function now, with Chris unzipping her jeans and easing them down her thighs, inch by agonizing inch, but she somehow managed to come up with an idea. "I'm thinking maybe I should go hang out with Cena in a little bit," she managed to get out, holding her breath as Jericho's motions stilled for a split second before instantly becoming rougher.

"What do you mean?" he asked in a dangerously low voice. Krys almost came then and there; the tone of anger in his voice had always been one of the things that he could use in order to bring her to her knees and do whatever he wanted her to do. The sound of his voice, hot, angry, and commanding, had always been instrumental in bringing her arousal to a peak.

"I mean, since it'll only take you a few minutes to shoot your load and all, I was thinking that once we get that out of the way, I can go hang out with Cena and go to dinner with him afterwards," Krys panted, feeling his hands yank her jeans down the rest of the way.

"I don't think so," he snarled in her ear, and she let out a low moan. "You're not going anywhere near Cena. He can't…he _won't_ have what's mine." The possessiveness in his voice, the fact that he claimed she was his and his alone was so dark and sensual, melting over her like the richest of chocolate. She closed her eyes and licked her lips eagerly as he snarled, "You belong to _me_."

No longer bothering to try and fight him off, since she knew they were far past that level by that point in time, she put up no resistance when she felt one and then a second finger slip inside her tight heat, releasing a sigh of sheer pleasure as she felt them twisting and turning inside of her, stretching and filling her, even as he propped his hardness at the tip of her wetness, slowly grinding himself against her, teasing her even as his fingers moved inside her, preparing her for what was to come.

She didn't have to wait very long, because less than a minute later, the fingers were gone, and Jericho was positioning himself between her legs again, pushing her jeans all the way down to her knees and easing ever so slowly inside her. He could feel her body tensing up at first and stilled his motions, waiting for her body to relax. When it did so, he eased the rest of his rigid length inside of her and slowly withdrew, watching her push back towards him, her body demanding more from him.

An unexpected snap of his hips, and he was deep inside her again. Krys' back arched, and she let out a satisfied moan, wordlessly demanding more of the same. He gripped her hips and pulled her back towards him as he drove home again, more forcefully than before, and she uttered a cry of blissful delight. "Fuck me, Chris," she growled even as she whimpered, and Chris, being the indulging husband that he was, decided to oblige his wife.

Jericho moved against her, pounding into her, taking everything that she had to offer and more, and Krys loved it, wouldn't have asked for anything more. "Oh God…Chris…" she wailed as he continued to move faster and faster, his nails scratching and clawing and drawing blood as they dug into her sides as he gripped her hips to drive into her.

"Turn your head, Krys," Jericho commanded, and she did so, only to have her lips captured in a fierce kiss, the two of them unleashing all the passion and love they felt for one another into that moment.

As he moved back to sit on the balls of his feet and took her with him, one hand snaked around her waist and traveled down to her femininity, where he began stroking her clit with each thrust he made, his mouth still over hers, drowning out her cries as she was pushed closer and closer to the edge. She growled into his mouth, reaching her hand up to tangle itself into his hair tugging on it to encourage him, while the other one covered his at her core.

Snarling harshly at the yanks on his hair, Jericho wrenched his mouth from hers and redoubled his efforts, rutting into her slick heat desperately, turning her moans and growls to shouts and wails. Krys arched her back and head against her husband, writhing and moaning and wailing as he drove into her without mercy, losing herself in the frenzy of their lovemaking. "Chris…" she whimpered, quickly losing the battle to release. "I can't take it…I'm close…so close…don't stop…"

"No way in hell I'm stopping now…it feels too damn good…so good…" he growled. Without pausing his motions, he removed his hand from her clit and brought it up to his lips, but before he could sample the unique taste that was his wife, Krys snatched his hand away and, with brown eyes glazed over with dark lust, brought each finger to her lips and licked her essence off of his fingers. The action caused the very last of his control to snap and he shoved her back down to her original position on her hands and knees, and sliding himself in and out of her slick confines with blinding speed, placing his fingers back inside her to tease her clit more, nearly driving Krys insane.

Pausing low enough to press himself against her back, he snarled in her ear, "Cena isn't shit. You're mine, Krys, and you'll always be mine. You come when I tell you to come, and right now, I want you to come for me. _Now!_"

He then sank his teeth into her neck, and Krys, who had been trying desperately to regain and hang on to some semblance of control, released a scream that could have woken the dead as she came. Jericho continued to force his length into her contracting sheath, slamming himself as deep as he could inside her before giving a roar of his own and spilling his hot seed deep inside her confines. Fully sated, he rested his forehead against Krys' sweat-drenched back, trying to catch his breath as they came down from their high. Since the whole Ric Flair episode the year before, the two of them hadn't had the time to have an intense lovemaking session, and—though he'd never admit it to his wife—he was grateful that she took it upon herself to provoke him. It had given him the incentive he'd needed to blow off some of the steam he'd acquired over the months with his Nexus storyline.

He eased his waning erection from its favorite place, and sat down on the locker room floor, crossing his legs Indian-style, pulling Krys onto his lap to face him. Her eyes were sparkling, and she looked quite proud of herself, as if she knew that Chris had needed the release just as much as she had. He pulled her towards him and treated himself to a passionate, tender kiss, allowing himself to get lost inside it for a brief moment before reluctantly pulling away and composing his face in a stern look.

"I hope you learned your lesson," he said sternly. "Don't make me have to do it again."

Krys shrugged her shoulders, then grinned up at him. "Oh, trust me, darlin', I definitely _will_ be doing it again."

Amused, Chris smirked at her, and pecked her lips again. "Knowing you to be the hardheaded bitch that I've always known you to be…yeah, I guess you will do it again. And I'll just have to punish you again."

"Oh, I'm _so_ looking forward to more punishment…" Krys replied, grinning wickedly at him. "Which reminds me, speaking of punishment…I think you deserve some for beating my ass the way you did." She glared at him for emphasis, brown eyes narrowing as they focused on him again.

"Punishment, huh?" He felt his cock twitch in response, and the two of them looked down at it, then Chris smirked at his wife again. "I think somebody agrees with you on that punishment deal. I hope you remembered to lock the door this time."

"Fuck if I remember. Well, if I didn't, then the rest of the locker room will be treated to one hell of a show."

"Well, it'll more than likely be better than this week's RAW. PG-rated shows suck anyway, so…" Krys' laughter was swallowed up as Chris leaned in for another kiss, just as he slipped her favorite toy back inside her, gearing up for round two.


End file.
